


The Vilification of a Vampire

by Erring_and_umming



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Young Dracula (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts Third Year, Pre-Relationship, There were not enough vampires in Harry Potter and I'm here to change that a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24090403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erring_and_umming/pseuds/Erring_and_umming
Summary: Vlad is a rare breed of magical vampire in his third year at Hogwarts and the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor despises him. This lesson, Lupin is teaching them about the boggart but Vlad fears that the darkness that lies below the surface may be reflected within the boggart's illusion and threaten everything he holds dear. ONESHOT to TWOSHOT and now COMPLETE
Relationships: Vladimir Dracula/Hermione Granger
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A fun little oneshot idea that came to me when I was watching Prisoner of Azkaban. I hope you enjoy this fun little jump into the Harry Potter universe for Vlad. 
> 
> Also full shout out to the larger HP/Young Dracula writers! Those guys do some brilliant work and if you enjoy this I would check out those other stories out there!

The curtains that lined the towering windows floated like gossamer ribbons into the room, carried by a light breeze that brought the damp, earthy scents of the Forbidden Forest into the classroom. Vlad took a heavy breath, letting the smells of the wild wash over him like a calming balm. He was on edge; every hair was standing on end as he gazed at the front of the room. The object of his fear stood next to Professor Lupin’s desk, a decrepit cupboard that reeked of creature, it shuffled and rattled, the thing inside was restless. Vlad could feel it.

“Intriguing, isn’t it?” the werewolf mused, his amber eyes scanned the classroom a smirk playing on his lips and his gaze found Vlad’s with the quirk of an eyebrow. Vlad looked away hurriedly, not wishing to catch the man’s attention any more than he already had, “Could anyone venture a guess as to what’s inside?”

“That’s a boggart, that is,” Dean Thomas said as the class jumped, the cupboard jolting precariously on its small wooden legs. Vlad felt his heart sink into his shoes, his blood running cold at the thought.

“Very good Mr. Thomas,” the professor smiled, leaning against the dark cabinetry at the side of the room. Vlad swore he saw the teacher shoot him a goading smile at him out of the corner of his eye, but the grin didn’t reach his eyes.

“Now can anyone tell me what a boggart looks like?” Lupin asked.

Hermione’s voice rang out, causing Vlad and Harry to jump back at her sudden arrival, “No one knows, Boggarts are shape-shifters they take whatever form a particular person fears the most. That’s why they’re so—"

Lupin interrupted, “So terrifying yes, yes.”

Vlad knew this creature could truly out him to the class as a member of the ‘undead club’ as his sister put it, and that his teacher was putting him at risk with this exercise. He looked over to Harry in a panic by the boy seemed to be hanging on Lupin’s every word, watching the teacher as if entranced. It seemed that his friend would not be a particular help with this little problem. Lupin’s spell instructions swept over him and unable to penetrate the layer of dread that had coated his skull.

He felt a tugged on his sleeve, calling his attention. Hermione was looking at him, hair was an array of light curls around her but was pinched in concern, “Vlad are you alright? You look like you’re about to be sick.”

“I-I’m alright, I just don’t really think I want to—”

_“Riddikulus!”_

The chant interrupted his thoughts and Hermione’s head swiveled towards Lupin who was watching the two with a careful eye. The man definitely knew what he was doing, throughout the year he had been trying to tear Harry away from him during their one-on-one lessons but, like all of the teachers, was swore against revealing his true nature to any of the students. It seemed that the man had found a-not-so-subtle way around that little rule through the boggart. At least Vlad didn’t let racial tensions get in the way of his education, unlike some furry bastards.

“Very good! A little louder and a little clearer,” Remus cheered, _“Riddikulus!”_

 _“Riddikulus!”_ the class recited again with a loud ring that Vlad joined in with. He turned back to Hermione who gave his hand a little squeeze, if he could blush properly, Vlad was sure he would have been pink up to his ears as the girl’s eyes dropped to the floor. She herself looked nervous; he swore for a moment he could hear her heart pounding against her chest as if it was begging to get out. He shook the thought away and looked back to the front of the class.

Lupin paced in front of the third years, “Well so much for the easy part. For the incantation alone is not enough. What really finishes a boggart is laughter. You need to force it to assume a shape that you find truly amusing,” he searched the crowd for a moment, “Let me explain…ah Neville will you join me please?” the boy immediately paled, as his name was called. Vlad couldn’t help but think it was a little cruel to get the nervous boy up in front of the class, “Come on don’t be shy, now what frightens you the most?” Remus asked as Neville staggered to the front.

“P-Professor Snape,” Neville stuttered, wringing his hands. Vlad’s heart went out to the boy, as if a teacher was his greatest fear? That would never be allowed in a breather school. Snape had always been horrible to many of the students, he seemed to despise Harry most of all. It was as if the boy had personally affronted him however, the potion master always managed to throw a few vampire-themed barbs Vlad’s way as well much to the young biter’s chagrin.

Remus smiled a little at that, a soft chuckle escaping his lips, “Frightens all! And I believe you live with your grandmother?”

“Yes, but I don’t want that boggart to turn into her either!” Neville said in a panic, looking towards the cupboard as if it would bite him.

“No!” Lupin exclaimed with a grin, “It won’t. I want you to picture her clothes, only her clothes very clearly in your mind.”

“She carries a red handbag…” Neville began.

Lupin cut him off and with a swish of his hand pulled out his wand, “We don’t need to hear, as long as you see it. We’ll see it. Now when I open that wardrobe, here’s what I want you to do,” the older man whispered into the shaking boy’s ear, Vlad couldn’t make out what was said but by the way Neville smiled with nerves it couldn’t have been all bad, “Alright! Wands at the ready,” the man said as he flourished his wand towards the ancient wardrobe.

The click of the rusted lock echoed through the room, the creak of hinges squealed out causing a few of the breathers to wince and Vlad watched on intently, sweat pooling in his palms. He hoped that Neville would be okay but by the way Lupin was standing it seemed that the man planned on protecting them as best as he could.

There was a beat of silence, as the classroom held its collective breath.

A flutter of midnight hair caught Vlad’s eyes, as a spitting image of Professor Snape stepped out into the classroom in all his greasy glory. Neville took a shaking step back away from the man, his wand tremoring in his hand as he held it aloft.

Squeezing his eyes shut the boy shouted, “ _R-riddikulus_!”

With a gasp and a twist, the figure shifted. A stuffed eagle appeared upon its head as if in mid-flight, a gleaming red handbag was clutched in its hands and a velvet green dress slid down its body. Vlad chuckled at the sight, internally crowing for Neville’s triumph as the boy shone with pride.

“Excellent! Excellent Neville! Bombastic! Alright, class form a line, Neville get to the back of the line!” Lupin shouted with enthusiasm, nearly jumping in his scuffed shoes, “Now I want everyone to picture what they fear the most and turn it into something funny!” the man said as he placed a record onto an ancient turntable that crooned with jazz.

Vlad rolled his eyes but jumped into the line, knowing he couldn’t pull himself out of the class without the teacher’s permission. Vlad felt the press of bodies against him as students shoved their way into position, he found himself just before Harry in the line.

“You alright Vlad?” he asked, his emerald eyes shining behind his glasses. He didn’t seem as nervous as Vlad felt, a small smile was playing at his lips as he looked towards Snape dressed in horrible drag. Even Renfield looked better in a dress than the potions professor.

Vlad turned to look at his friend, “Yeah I’m just a bit worried about this task I guess.”

Harry smiled then, the warmth cheering Vlad slightly, “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure if anything goes wrong Professor Lupin will protect us.”

Vlad sighed at that, looking towards the Defence teacher, “I guess you’re right mate. Thanks,” Vlad mumbled as the teacher sidled over to them.

“Count. A word if you don’t mind?” he said, walking over to the window as the jazz record the werewolf had put on played, “You’re welcome to sit this one out if you want Count,” Lupin sighed.

Vlad felt indignation rise up like fire in his belly, “Well it wouldn’t be particularly subtle if I left now would it professor?” sarcasm dripped from his tongue as he stared his teacher down.

“Attitude young fang,” his teacher hissed, but his face was blank and his stance casual, “You can tell your friends you don’t want to face the boggart and fail this class or you can just be quick with your spell work. I’ve heard from Flitwick and McGonagall that you are particularly adept,” the man seemed to be struggling to keep the sneer from his voice, his nose wrinkling in disgust, “Either way the choice is yours, best be back to your place in line. I have a class to run,” the man pivoted on his heel, leaving Vlad in a flurry of tattered brown cloak.

Vlad trudged back to his place, ignoring Harry’s glances that radiated concern, “What did he want?” Harry asked.

“Just wanted to talk to me about detention at the end of the week,” Vlad sighed, the lie was his regular one, it slipped out of his mouth easily burning like acid. He hated lying to his friends, but it was the easiest way to keep his private tuition with Bertrand a secret. No need for Hermione to find out about ancient vampire lore, or she would never be seen again from behind the pile of dusty books. 

“Ah, I see,” Harry chuckled with an eye roll.

The two watched as the students dealt with the boggart, yells of _riddikulus_ rising above the din of the music that swirled around the room. Vlad could feel his nerves bubble through his body, knowing that he would need to decide. Lupin was right, his casting ability may be up to the task if he was quick enough, he thumbed at the worn wood of his veneer of a wand. The cherry stick was really only for appearances, vampires were adept at wandless casting using rings as conduits that drew on their innate blood magic. Vlad’s now sat heavily on his finger, humming slightly in time against his skin with that haze of magic in the air. Lupin knew Vlad wouldn’t fail a class, he was too committed to his near-perfect grades to allow them to slip so easily, nor was he interested in looking weak in front of his classmates. He was in no need of being of the receiving end of passageway jinxes thank you very much.

“Granger!” McGonagall’s voice cut through the noise like a knife. Vlad’s head whipped up and he gazed at a quaking Hermione facing down her incensed headteacher, “You have failed every class this year! You have given me no choice but to ex—”

“ _Riddikulus!”_ Hermione yelled as clear as crystal, the image before the class warped and shifted, pulling like candy as Hermione’s will manipulated it. The boggart seemed appalled looking down at itself as its legs wobbled for a moment as if struck by a particularly harsh wind before it began to tap dance. A grin tore across its face while its eyes jumped around wildly, feet tapping on the ground to the beat of the music. Burgeoning pride bloomed in Vlad’s chest at the sound of Hermione’s laughter at the front of the classroom. She looked back towards him with an encouraging smile as she walked away from the boggart towards him.

“You’ll be fine Vlad,” she whispered in his ear before, walking to her place in the back of the classroom with the others that had finished the task.

He felt Harry’s elbow dig into his side, Vlad turned to see his friend giving him a leering eye and waggling eyebrows. Rolling his eyes with a smirk Vlad turned back to the front of the room and the slowly dwindling line in front of him.

Pavarti Patil stepped up in front of him to the challenge, her shoulder back and her eyes fierce, Vlad had always respected the girl for her quiet determination in class. She threw her long hair over her shoulder as the clown in front of her darkened, it’s face morphing and broiling, its skin stretching as a chilling laugh filled the room, reverberating through the floorboard. Every person stiffened except for Vlad whose eyes flicked towards Lupin. The man himself was watching intently as the creature appeared in its final and familiar form.

A tall shadow of a man stood before them in a liquid pool of gloom, his hair was slicked back and was as dark as an ink spill, with eyes that burnt like the sun. Pavarti took an involuntary step back with a yelp. Vlad could hear her shuddering breath as she neared him and she muttered a hiss of “Dracula,” too quiet for any to hear. The class watched with bated breath as the vampire stalked towards her, fangs flashing like knives.

Vlad couldn’t help the roll of his eyes at the display, Pavarti was a half-blood and had obviously read the Stoker book, as this boggart seemed to have taken the near spitting image of his father, dramatics and all. He understood why breathers found them so terrifying, deep in his stomach he could feel the thrill squirm at Pavarti’s fear which he quashed with a scowl; they were their natural prey, after all. Everything about the vampire was made to draw a breather in, to trap and distract and seduce and drain, it was a deadly elixir that ultimately led to a blood bath.

“Come on Pavarti!” Vlad whispered gazing at the shaking girl’s back, “You can do it! Just say the spell and it will be gone,” he encouraged from behind her.

She straightened up at his words, “ _R-riddikulus,”_ she murmured, but it didn’t seem to have any effect at all. The creature trailed her with measured steps, licking his lips, “ _Riddikulus!”_ she screamed, and the Count took a step back with a growl, feathers sprouting from his head, a beak bursting from his mouth with a squawk. Vlad howled with laughter along with the class at the sight, the Prince of Darkness was doing a chicken dance, his head bobbing unnaturally. 

Pavarti turned to him, a smile written across her face, “Thanks Vlad!” she said as she walked away, leaving him to face his feathered father as he shot her a wane smile.

His thoughts swirled and twisted along with his gut, leaving him feeling thoroughly sick as he stepped up to the image of his father, the reds of his eyes fading for a moment as the feathers receded.

Tremors tore through Vlad’s body, the cherry stick shaking in his hands as his magic simmered under the surface of his skin. Lupin inclined his head towards the creature who morphed before him in subtle undulating waves. The change Vlad noticed was not incredibly apparent, but the figure bent at the waist, their long locks curling into Vlad’s own shorter ones. He kept his stance wide, many of the students at this point had become disinterested with their classmates’ fears, talking among themselves instead of watching the display. However, Vlad did his best to cover what his mind was creating before his eyes. The figure was silent, face obscured by a cloak of liquid night, the spell tingled at the tip of his tongue as Vlad began the incantation to banish this prophetic illusion.

 _“Ridd—”_ Vlad stuttered, a pale hand appeared beneath the figure, crimson rivers running down their arm that smeared across their fingertips. He followed their ruby path up the arm to a waterfall of curly brown hair, the body of Hermione was carelessly draped across the figure’s lap struggling with weak pants as fangs sunk into her throat. Beneath the figure’s feet was the body Harry, his emerald eyes glassy and his skin a deathly white, two puncture wounds stood starkly upon his milk-white throat, “ _Rid—”_ the head rose slowly, Vlad felt his lungs nearly tumble out of his throat with a sputtered gasp as alarm swum through his veins. The dark eyes met him, his own eyes were staring back at him with a mouthful of daggers that were smeared with gore. He heard the DADA professor step forwards towards the boggart, his wand held aloft to face the manifestation of his future.

“ _Riddikulus!”_ Vlad screeched, his voice rising a few octaves in fright as he held the image of Renfield’s cream pie incident in his mind. The boggart looked up in surprise as the bodies disappeared and cream smeared across its faces in messy whipped peaks.

Vlad turned on his heels and marched the back of the class and averted Harry’s troubled gaze. He looked at the students, many of whom were talking among themselves, all ignoring him soundly. At least most of them had been too distracted to watch his little performance.

Hermione was staring at him from her position in the back of the classroom, her brown eyes filled with worry as he walked to the other side of the room, making sure to keep away from her. Vlad threw himself in his seat, glaring at the werewolf that stood stock still, staring at the boggart’s cream-filled face. 

Vlad found himself lost in his thoughts as he sat watching Harry step forward with vague intent, he saw his older self rise from his kneeling position. Standing up straight before the boy in a towering column of shadowy fabric. Vlad felt a rush of relief crash through his body for the cream-pie idea as it covered the ‘Dracula bone structure’ his father was so fond of. It was a strange disjointed feeling watching himself shift and dislocate as Harry’s fear shaped the boggart.

The boggart-Vlad’s skin crawled, pale skin desiccating and crawling into a ghastly grey as bandages wrapped around his body. Vlad watched with sick fascination as his body was taken over by that of the dementor. It seemed the effect of the illusory dementor was slighter than that of the dementors that hung at the gates, many of the students around him were shivering as if they had been dumped in the lake during winter.

Vlad felt nothing, the dementors were soul eaters and therefore had no sway over the undead but he watched with concern the shaking steps of Harry as he lurched away from the creature that loomed over him before he came to his knees. Lupin’s eyes widened at the sight and with a yell he lunged in front of Harry his arms wide to protect the child. The boggart shimmered in the air for a moment before finally shifting into a full moon that hung in the classroom before them.

Vlad felt a small stab of vindication at the sight before the man yelled, “ _Riddikulus!”_ the moon took on a waxy sheen, shooting off into the classroom in the form of a stray balloon. Remus guided the boggart back into the wardrobe with a casual flick of his wand, “Alright! Class dismissed!” Remus yelled over the clatter of students rushing out of the room to lunch.

Vlad lurched to his feet, dragging himself from the room, pulling away from the crowd of his class that headed to lunch and proceeded in the opposite direction. 

“Vlad!” Hermione yelled; her footsteps slapped against the stonework as she ran up to him. Vlad shoved his hands into his pockets and kept walking, his teeth clenching without his permission as his thoughts battered against his skull with painful jabs.

“Vlad wait up!” Harry’s voice joined her, the two grabbing him from behind and turning him around forcibly, “What was that about mate are you alright?” he asked, pushing his wire glasses up his nose as he bent over catching his breath in large gulps of air. The effects of the semi-dementor still clinging to the boy as he shivered in front of Vlad. 

Hermione seemed to be eyeing his warily, Vlad noticed her eyes settle on his mouth and his nails bit into his palm, the pain grounding him and keeping his face impassive, “Yeah I’m alright, sorry I’m not feeling too well I was just making my way up to the common room,” Vlad answered, looking down at his shoes.

“Was it the boggart?” Harry asked, his skin taking on a green sheen as he spoke.

Vlad’s head whipped up, “What do you think Harry?” he hissed, turning around and dashing away.

“Vlad!” Hermione called after him, “It was you wasn’t it?”

Vlad froze his breath catching in his throat, “Of course not Herm,” he whispered looking over his shoulder with a smile, “I don’t have fangs. Besides it didn’t even look like me.”

The two students looked at each other disbelieving and walked up to him, as he took a few steps back, feeling white-hot dread slosh about the inside of his stomach.

“Are you lying to us Vlad? You can tell us, you know…if you’re a vampire,” Hermione whispered the word as if it could hurt her.

“Of course not! I don’t have fangs and you’ve seen me in the sunlight! I had garlic pasta for dinner last night!” Vlad pleaded, watching Harry’s face fall he knew he had to think on his feet, mumbling, “I-In the old country vampires are a lot more common than they are here you know. My father used to tell us a lot of stories when we were kids and I guess they just stuck.”

Hermione sighed, “Oh Vlad! We’re sorry, I…I didn’t even think about it, I just saw myself there and it was—I was…I was so scared!” Vlad found his mouth stuffed with curly air and his ribs nearly crushed at the smaller girl hugged him. Looking over her shoulder he saw Harry watching him carefully as he wrapped his arms around her.

“I understand Hermione. I would never let that happen to either of you…I promise,” Vlad grimaced into her hair as he spoke.

“We know mate,” Harry said, “Come on let’s go to lunch, at least have some pumpkin juice, it might settle your stomach.”

Hermione and Vlad pulled away at Harry’s knowing smirk. Vlad couldn’t help but notice the blush that dusted across her cheeks as she let go, his body craving the warmth that she gave off as she extracted herself. 

“Alright let’s go,” Vlad said and with his two best friends he walked to the Great Hall, his secrets still intact.

* * *

Vampires didn’t come up for weeks after the fateful boggart event. He had heard from Bertrand that the werewolf had gotten a right earful from McGonagall for the little stunt. Which made that little part of himself roar in triumph.

The full moon was coming tonight, which meant Lupin would be out of his fangs for a few days thankfully. Vlad really did feel sorry for the man, born werewolves relished in the moon, their bodies had adapted, but bitten werewolves suffered from every cycle while their bodies were continually torn apart when they succumbed to the wolf.

Harry and Hermione flanked him as they walked into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, discussing quietly between themselves the possible topics for this class. The room itself was bathed in shadow as the wooden shutters were closed across the lofty windows, much to Vlad’s chagrin he found his way quite well in the dark. He guided his two friends to their seats with ease, gliding through the maze of desks.

There was clattering as the rest of the class found their seats, muttered swears filling the room until eventually, everyone had found a seat.

“Professor Lupin is ill so I will be taking your class. No complaints. Let us begin with werewolves,” the deep tones of Professor Snape silenced the remaining chatter as the man appeared from the darkness, like a ghost. Vlad banged his head upon the desk at the man’s appearing. The older man flicked his wand towards an intricate metal projector in the middle of the room that whirred to life with the touch of magic, beaming a ghastly painting of a werewolf mid-shift under the light of the pale moon. He swooped in front of the image, his pale skin nearly reflecting the white light of the machine, “There are two types of werewolves. Does anyone in this class know the difference?” the professor asked.

Vlad kept his mouth firmly shut, watching as the man’s eyes gazed across the classroom, landing upon Hermione’s outstretched hand, “Yes, Granger,” he sighed as if it pained him greatly.

“There are born werewolves who are immortal creatures and not beholden to the cycle of the moon. Furthermore, the born werewolf has complete control over themselves when in their wolfish form. However, the bitten werewolves are mortal creatures and only turn when the moon is full. The transformations themselves have a severe effect upon their bodies which normally leads to premature aging. They have no control over themselves when under the effects of the full moon, they’d kill their best friend if they came across them. However, they both share the same amber coloured eyes,” Hermione said promptly.

“Correct Ms. Know-it-All.” Snape hissed and Vlad barely contained a growl as he saw hurt flash across Hermione’s face, her mouth down turned as she looked down at her hands.

Snape paced through the aisles of the desks, “Turn to page 394,” he snapped, the fluttered of pages filled the space as he walked.

“Excuse me sir,” Harry said, leaning towards the sour professor, “Where’s Professor Lupin?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your concern Potter,” Snape said, walking to the projector, “suffice to say that your teacher finds himself incapable of teaching at the present time. Now turn to page 394.”

Vlad saw the confusion flitter across Harry’s face at the professor’s words, he had a sinking feeling that Snape was attempting to out the Defence professor much like the werewolf had tried to do to him just weeks ago.

“Sir,” Hermione called, turning to the professor, “We’ve only just started with Redcaps and Hinkypunks. We’re not supposed to be learning about nocturnal beasts for weeks!”

Vlad flinched at her words, knowing that his own kind were probably on the curriculum at some point, nearly certainly under the subcategory of ‘nocturnal beasts. He could imagine the way in which his classmates would react to learning about the bloodsuckers of the night. Their faces twisting into masks of horror and disgust. However, how much accurate information the wizarding world had on vampires was not something he had researched.

“Do you plan on speaking out of turn all lesson Miss Granger? Or are you just incapable of restraining yourself from showing off?” Hermione’s cheeks coloured at that. Vlad could feel the heat of her embarrassment coming off her in waves, tears glistening in her eyes, so he reached over and gave her hand a little squeeze under the table. He went to pull his hand away but felt the warm pressure of her fingers against his own.

“Don’t let go,” she whispered, “or I’ll be too tempted to jinx that bully,” a smirk bloomed across her lips and Vlad was sure that his heart nearly skipped a beat at the look she sent him. He just nodded at her, not trusting himself to speak.

“Now! Can anyone tell me what the natural enemy of the werewolf is?” Snape said and Vlad froze in horror, trying not the squeeze Hermione’s hand too much.

“Vampires,” Draco grunted from across the room.

“Very good Draco, five points to Slytherin,” Snape said, tapping his wand upon the projector the image before the class shifted to a man bent over a pile of bodies, blood gushing through the painting like rivers. Vlad had seen images like this his whole life but never in this context, they were always put in places of pride to show other vampiric clans your power and your bloodlust but here in the classroom the dark figure seemed almost distant and clinical, “Vampires are also known as _strigoi_ ,” Vlad balked at the traditional name of his people, “They sate themselves upon the blood of humanity, stealing our lifeforce to continue their immortal ones. They, like werewolves, fall into the same two categories with similar results: there are born and bitten vampires, bitten vampires carry the scars of their turning for the rest of their unlives, they are wild and untamable, while the born vampire does not have this scares and are more well adjusted to their lives of bloodshed,” Snape’s eyes landed upon him for a moment, a ghost of a smile appeared below his hawk-like nose, “They are known to despise sunlight, while no blood pumps through their veins which leaves them pale, with a corpse-like appearance. They cannot stand holy water and symbols as well as garlic and are hated by almost every magical creature. So, I ask you class…how does one spot a vampire?”

That prompted Vlad’s rather unpleasant memory of his Care of Magical Creatures class where the unicorns had broken out of their pen in their attempts to gore him. Only Hagrid’s bulky form had protected him from their wicked horns. Why he took that class only Satan knows? It may have had something to do with Harry and Hermione’s begging, but he would never admit that.

Seamus Finnegan piped up, “Throw a bit of garlic at ‘em sir?” to the laughter of the rest of the class.

“Hilarious thought Finnegan. Looks like you will be receiving some fangs in the neck with that response,” Snape said his voice dripping with derision, and Vlad couldn’t help but agree, “The answer is, you don’t. By the time you have realised that someone is a vampire, it is normally too late. That is what makes these creatures far more dangerous than werewolves or at least bitten werewolves because they are always monsters. They do not have friends, only future victim,” Vlad’s insides grew cold, Snape’s words ringing in his head, catching at his mind with claws that tore at him mercilessly, “Then the question is how does one kill these beasts?” Vlad held his breath, watching at the teacher nearly grow in the darkness, his chest swelling, “Werewolves and vampires share an aversion to sliver, however it seems that werewolves are more seriously affected by the metal. To kill a vampire, one must stake it through the heart or use sunlight based spells,” a sneer spread across the man’s face as the scratch of quills filled the room.

“Is there really no way to spot a vampire Professor?” Harry asked his voice shaking slightly, he seemed ghostly in the light of the projector, “Like if there was one here right now?” he said.

Snape nearly grinned at that, his greasy hair tumbling around him as he pivoted as stalked to the front of the room. Vlad could feel his black eyes watching him all the while, “Well Potter. That would be even more difficult. Look around you and what do you see?”

Harry turned quizzically around the class, with a single eyebrow raised, “Erm, students?”

“Exactly Potter!” Vlad was not keen on where this conversation was going, and he had to force himself to sit up instead of sink into his seat. The instinct to run was nearly overwhelming, the weight of Hermione’s hand kept him somewhat grounded, but he could feel it simmering in his blood like fire, screaming at him to protect himself, “If there was a bitten vampire in the room maybe you would have more luck, you could look for a turning scar. But if, there was a born vampire in here you wouldn’t be able to tell at all. Before the age of sixteen a born vampire looks like us in every way as a defense mechanism. They have blood pulsing through their veins however it is darker than our oxygenated blood, they can go out in the sunlight, eat garlic, even go to church if they so wished to. Born vampires masquerade as us when they are young, they learn how to hunt us by blending in with us,” bile was gathering in his throat at Snape’s words, he wanted to run but it was too late, as Snape continued, “the only difference is that they run slightly colder than a human but that would mean...you would already be in its grasp,” Snape grinned at him across the heads of the students as murmurs spread through the classroom like wildfire, uneasiness licking in their collective psyche. Snape’s dark eyes glittering at Vlad in the half-light of the projector. Vlad could feel his control slipping, snapping under the pressure of his words that laid heavily like rocks upon his chest, driving the air from his lungs.

But Vlad barely paid attention to the malicious gaze of his potion master. Instead his senses were focussed upon the tiny traitorous gasp that escaped Hermione’s lips and the slide of her warm skin against his own as she pulled her hand from his grasp.

He turned to look at her, making sure to keep his movements as slow and non-threatening but when his eyes found hers he was met with two brown pools of horror. 


	2. Dastardly Divulgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The confrontation that leaves the world spinning for Vlad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELP! This was a chapter that I never thought I would write. I was planning on just leaving it and being all mysterious etc. HOWEVER, I got a couple of comments of here and on FF.net and I thought I would write about what I thought would happen. Although, if you want to just leave it up to your own imaginings I wouldn't read this chapter and the first can just act as a stand alone.

Vlad was more than a little grateful for his two and a half years of secret wanderings through the castle at night as he bolted from the classroom, leaving a dumbstruck Hermione in his wake. He tore through the crowd of perturbed students their mutterings barely reached his ear as Vlad hoped to everything unholy that he wasn’t being followed.

His heart hammered in his disbelief, beating in time with his hurried footsteps as he disappeared behind a tapestry of Olgen the Petulant that hung in the DADA corridor. The dust tickled uncomfortably in his nose as he caught his breath, leaning his forehead against the coolness of the rough stone of the secret passage. Hermione’s face swirled in his mind and he rushed down the secret passageway, the small twist in her mouth and the gasp that escaped her lips played over in his mind. Her face bore biting betrayal as she looked at him, the dots connecting before her eyes and she pulled away from him.

That was all Vlad needed to know. She knew and thought him a monster, he had waited for this day. All his unlife he wondered what would happen when a breather found out what lay below his skin. The simmering shadows that he had denied for so long, but Snape had laid it out in front of him for all to see as if he was something to be studied and dissected under fluorescent lights.

The cobwebs caught at his clothes as he tripped through the dark, tears blurring his vision as he followed the familiar narrow stone archway that led to Bertrand’s chambers deeper in the labyrinth of Hogwarts.

He felt his breath catch with hiccupping sobs, as he reached the old wooden door, “Seva,” he whispered, and the door opened with a creak. Vlad knew that the sun was at its peak, and normally Vlad would not barge into his tutor’s room and wake him at this hour, but he felt this was a warranted excuse. Stepping in Vlad looked around the spartan room for a moment, he took in the dim shadows that played in the corners. With careful movements Vlad approached his tutor’s plain shroud, giving the older vampire’s shoulder a little shake with a murmured, “Bertrand.”

With a flutter of fabric his tutor awoke with a snarl and bared fangs, his eyes glowing a deep crimson. Vlad only sighed, unperturbed, as his tutor was never very cheery when he woke. As Bertrand’s eyes met his, his mouth clamped shut with a click, “Oh Vlad—sorry I didn’t realise it was you…are you alright?” his eyes shifted back to their muddied green as he blinked blearily up at the boy.

Knees weak, Vlad wanted to collapse in front of the man, “I—In class,” he let out a calming breath, trying to reign in the chaos of his emotions, “Snape in class he covered vampires in class…”

Bertrand raised a singular eyebrow at his student as he scanned his face, “And this is a problem?”

“Yes Bertrand!” Vlad hissed, “Of course it’s a problem when he didn’t just cover _adult_ vampires!” he sat himself upon the ground holding his head in his hands.

“Ah…I see. So, who suspects?” Bertrand asked, extricating himself from his shroud he shifted around to face the young vampire.

“It’s not that Hermione suspects,” said Vlad as he raked his hands through his hair, his voice caught on her name as her accusing eyes swam before his in illusory eddies.

Bertrand cocked his head, “Then you have no pro—”

“She knows.”

The temperature in the room plummeted at Vlad’s words, both vampires sat stock still for what seemed like an eternity.

“Are you sure? How could she know? No offense Vlad but I wouldn’t say you are the most vampiric vampire,” Bertrand muttered with a small smirk.

Vlad let a chuckle slide pass his lips with a sardonic rumble as he wiped the tears from his eyes with his fists, “I guess the boggart may have had something to do with it as well as the whole ‘smartest-witch-of-her-age’ gig. She joined the dots. Besides Snape mentioned that I would run a bit colder than a br—human.”

The young vampire had never seen such cold rage overtake his tutor’s face, his normally composed façade shattered before his eyes as the older vampire grit his teeth, “Well this is unfortunate oversight on your teacher’s part, I assume she didn’t take it very well?”

“About as well as Dumbledore finding all his robes have been turned black,” Vlad said as Bertrand hummed his face dark, “I assume she’s already told Harry.”

Bertrand’s head whipped up, eyes sharp, “You cannot let this get out Vlad, you’re not powerful enough to take on a whole school of hateful wand-wielding breathers. Especially if you’re seen to be a threat to their Boy-Who-Lived. Even with my help.”

“Well what am I meant to do?” Vlad asked desperately, realising the dire position he had found himself in. He felt a strange sense of déjà vu, he had sat once before in the darkness of a castle with similar stabs of fear before his family had moved to Stokely. The way the breathers had screamed at them, with monstrous twisted faces as if possessed by vengeful demons had chilled him to the bone as a child. But these humans had the ability to end their unlives with just a word.

“You could hypnotise her possibly? The boy too,” Bertrand said with a sigh, holding his nose with his forefinger and thumb, rubbing circles into his skin.

“I—I don’t think I could,” Vlad stuttered.

Bertrand gave him a quizzical look, “You should be able to, we’ve been practicing. You did fine with Flitch, this shouldn’t be any different…” the withering look that Vlad shot him could have cracked a mirror as the older vampire’s face fell, “Oh Vlad, you didn’t? You really do take after your father sometimes,” the man said with a frown.

“The way Snape spoke about us I…I know breathers hate us but,” Vlad sighed a weight settled itself on his shoulders making him slump, “Sometimes I’m around them so much I forget that we’re different, like there isn’t a big distance between me and them. Maybe I should just talk to Hermione…explain that I’m not—you know evil?” the young vampire said coming to his feet with shaking legs.

Bertrand stayed in his seat, “Do you think that wise?” he asked his brow crinkling like paper with concern, “Would she believe you?”

“I guess I’ve got to hope,” Vlad mumbled with a shrug as he dusted the silver strands of cobwebs off his school robes.

A growl escaped from Bertrand’s mouth as he stood, towering over the boy, “So, you’re going to risk your unlife for a girl to like you? I could just hypnotise her myself if your feelings are going to get in the way!”

Vlad shot to his feet, his body moving without his permission as he glared at his tutor. His head only just came to the man’s chest so he craned his head to look into the older man’s eyes, “No! You can’t! She deserves better than that!”

Bertrand stood his ground, his face hard, “Are you willing to risk your unlife just because she doesn’t deserve it?” Vlad came up short at that, the concern oozed out of Bertrand despite his aptitude with hiding his emotions. The jumping muscle in his jaw gave him away every time.

Standing his ground Vlad said gravely, “Yes! Look come with me, keep an eye out, outside the common room? I assume she’s there. The password is _Pig Snout._ If you hear any trouble just come, get me and we can leave this place. Run back to Stokely. I promise just…let me do this. I need to explain,” the older vampire sighed, it was a world-weary breath that hung between them.

“Obviously you’re not going to be convinced otherwise,” Bertrand said with a roll of his eyes, stepping away from the young vampire to the door, “So, you can try and talk to this breather. If it doesn’t go well, I will hypnotise her and the male. You shouldn’t have allowed yourself to get so close,” the frown etched across his face and Vlad felt a poke of guilt, knowing that he had put them both in a very tenuous position.

“Thanks, Bertrand!” Vlad said, he felt his limbs itch to hug the older vampire, but he shoved that instinct out of his mind, “One second, _sol clypeus,”_ the young vampire whispered, waving his hand across his tutor’s body. A wave of shadow sped from his hand and settled over the older vampire like a cloth made of night. Bertrand inclined his head in thanks, the spell itself left a shimmering residue over the older vampire’s skin, like semi-translucent volcanic sand that was barely visible to the human eye.

“Don’t thank me before we know what happens Vlad. This could all go to blood and garlic in a second,” the older vampire intoned, “Let’s get this over with, before she tells the whole school,” gesturing for the boy to follow him as he left the room.

The secret hallways of the castle seemed to crowd the two as they walked through the darkness, Bertrand had a near preternatural sense of direction within the shadows, his nose held aloft as he breathed deeply. Vlad was content to follow, knowing that his tutor would find Hermione anywhere in the castle.

“Know where she is?” Vlad asked, his voice trembled slightly but he was proud of the control he was showing.

“She’s not in the common room like you thought, she’s…she’s actually just outside it, I think,” Bertrand said, swinging them to the left around a sharp corner.

His breath was coming in sharp little intakes, as he thought of ways to prove his apparent goodness to his friend, “B-Bertrand,” Vlad whispered, feeling more like a child than he had since arriving at Hogwarts, “What should I say to her?”

He heard the older vampire sigh, “For all my wisdom Vladimir I am maybe not the one to ask about breather/vampire relations. This would be more your area I suppose,” Vlad noticed the way Bertrand’s shoulders drooped with his words, “I guess you’re just going to have to be honest, which is, unfortunately, one of the things you do best,” his small chuckled bounced off the stonework, coaxing a smile onto Vlad’s lips.

“That sounds like something my father would say,” Vlad snickered, his worries melting away for a moment at the sight of his laughing tutor.

“Well yes, be glad that it is not your father having this conversation or I’m sure this whole situation would be going in a completely different direction,” Bertrand said, the solemnity seeping back into his voice and the two vampires fell into silence.

A few moments passed, the sound of their footfalls the only company in the darkness as they meandered further upwards towards the Gryffindor tower. Vlad’s heart was hammering against his chest and bats tumbled in his stomach as the two approached the back of the gargoyle that led into the Gryffindor corridor.

He could hear the sounds of students now, the laughter seeping through the stones as the school came to life around them as got closer. It was strange to be so close to them but feel the distance of the darkness between them, as if the school existed across the void.

Bertrand turned to him, his face cast in the shadows that wavered around him, “I’ll wait here for you. I don’t want to come out unless I am needed in case I…scare the girl,” he frowned at that, his hands clasped in front of him, “Yell if you need me.”

“I will,” Vlad said shaking his hands with anxiety, his heart felt like it was trying to claw its way out of his throat, “I-I don’t want to leave this place,” he whispered.

Bertrand clasped him by the shoulder, peering down at him with a small smile, his voice was fierce in his conviction, “Then do not. Despite your father and despite my teachings you are _not_ evil Vlad. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, but your friends should be able to see past the fangs if they truly care about you and if not, we will fix this. We will not be driven out of here because of some sniveling professor. I will talk to Dumbledore after this okay—just go and convince her. _Thistlebrush,_ ” Bertrand turned him around as he spoke the password, the gargoyle groaning in protest as stone ground against stone to reveal the corridor, lit by flaming sconces. Bertrand held him by both shoulders giving them a little squeeze before he pushed him out into the corridor.

His tutor’s words filled him as he took his first shaking steps into the corridor, a small flickering flame of hope lit in his chest for the first time since the class. Hermione had been his first friend at Hogwarts, they had known each other for two and a half years, maybe she wouldn’t reject him entirely.

She was there, he could almost sense her on his peripheries, her scent hung in the air around him, the smell of parchment and peppermint that lingered like mist.

“Vlad?” her voice whispered from an alcove on his left, he turned gradually his hands aloft in a placating gesture at the wobble in her voice.

The sight he was met with was one that he had hoped he would never see, sending ice shooting through his veins.

Hermione stood huddled up against the stonework, her hair was a wild cloud around her as tears trickled down her face. Her breath came in panicked gasps as she clutched a gleaming wooden stake in her hands that was pointed straight at him.

“W-What have you got there Herm?” Vlad asked trying to keep the fear out of his voice as he took a step back, eyeing the pointed end. He wasn’t sure what would happen if she staked him, would his body turn to ash, or would he bleed out as his heart stuttered to a stop?

“I think you know for well what it is Vladimir,” Hermione hissed, “Now tell me it isn’t true.”

Vlad sighed, hanging his head. He couldn’t lie to her anymore, the pressure on his chest with every untruth that left his lips was too much and so he just looked at her with a shrug, “I don’t want to lie to you, Hermione.”

“Y-you’re a vampire!” she nearly screeched, her voice muffled by her own hand that shot out to cover her mouth.

Vlad’s stomach rolled, “Yes…but I won’t hurt you Hermione you heard Snape I don’t—I don’t even have my fangs or anything.”

“Fangs!” she yelped, tucker herself further into the alcove, Vlad took another step back kicking himself for even mentioning them. He took in the look on her face, fear bleeding out every one of her pores.

“Look Hermio—”

“I didn’t want it to be true,” she interrupted, “But I think I knew that it was...deep down. That’s why you’re always skulking about the castle isn’t it? I wanted to give you a chance you know to explain, I didn’t even tell Harry, but I think he suspects you know. I knew you would find me eventually, come looking for me. But why didn’t you tell me? Why did you lie?” tears were now falling in earnest, dripping onto her robes leaving dark, splashed stains.

“You don’t understand, trusting you with this wasn’t just trusting you with a secret, it was trusting you with my life!” Vlad said desperately, “Look just—just put the stake down and I’ll explain!”

She didn’t let go of the wooden weapon, her hands tightening around it with white knuckles, “Life! Vlad you’re dead! You’re destined to suck the life out of people!” her voice cracked as she spoke, her chin wobbling as she scrabbled back against the stone.

“Not entirely,” Vlad felt despondent as he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “Not at all. I still breathe and my heart beats!”

“It’s all a show though isn’t it? It’s not real! You’re just waiting to kill me, but I won’t let you,” her voice trembled but she stood her ground, the stake shook slightly between them in her quaking hands.

A surge of indignation shot through him, they had been through so much together, he had risked his unlife for her multiple times for her and this was her response. He stepped towards her, as she shied away with a yelp, turning her head from him and into the stone of the wall. He stood before her, the point of the stake digging into his chest over his heart, there was no turning back now, “Do you really think that Hermione?” he hissed, letting the hurt trickle into his voice, “You think I’m a monster? Then you may as well kill me, prove it to yourself.”

He felt a flutter of wind at his back, the dark waves of concern washing over him as Hermione gasped at Bertrand’s sudden arrival, “Vlad what are you doing?” the older vampire said desperately, grabbing his arm.

Vlad wrenching himself from the man’s grasp with a growl, the dark shadows in his belly howled at the hurt that had been done to him. Hermione was trembling now, and he felt the stake rip at his clothes, the wicked point etching into the skin of his chest. The cool trickle of his blood slid down his chest as the point nicked him. 

“V-Vlad who is that?” Hermione asked, her voice quaking as her eyes jumped between him and the older vampire.

Vlad ignored her question, “Good Garlic, do you remember the boggart Hermione?” Vlad asked his voice low.

“I-I—” she stuttered.

“My greatest fear, the thing that scares me the most is hurting you. Of hurting anyone,” Vlad felt tears gather in his eyes, traitorously slipping down his cheeks as he spoke, “Snape was wrong—we’re not all like that. He did it to spite me and cast me from the castle for what I am! So, stake me! Prove me wrong!” Hermione was crying in earnest now, great gasps breaking from her throat as Bertrand tried to pull him away again, his hands coming around his arms like vices, but Vlad wouldn’t move as he hissed, “Maybe bre—humans and vampires can’t live together!”

The stake clattered to the ground between them echoing through the corridor as the three froze in shock. Vlad felt his muscles immediately relax without the weapon pointed at his chest and he let out a weighty sigh. Bertrand flitted forward in a blink, mumbling about idiotic young fangs as Hermione gulped at the sudden show of speed. The older vampire reached down for the stake. The two vampires started, seeing that it was no longer a deadly weapon but a common hairbrush that laid on the stones unassuming.

Hermione stared at Vlad intently, “Do you mean it?”

Vlad sighed, exhaustion weighing upon him, “Mean what? The fear part or the coexistence part?” he asked, his sardonic tone caused her to wince.

“Y-you don’t want to hurt us?” she asked, her eyes trained over his shoulder and Vlad felt Bertrand slip away back into the shadows. The young vampire was thankful for the lack of audience as he wiped away the tears that hung coldly on his cheeks.

“Of course, I don’t Herm. I would rather you staked me than hurt you or anyone else,” Vlad begged, looking into her eyes, “I really care about you Hermione. I never wanted you to find out this way.”

Hermione let out a steadying breath, her face flushed pink as she looked at him from under her lashes, “I’m sorry Vlad…I—you know you’re going to have to tell Harry right. He should know before he figures it out on his own.”

“Look Herm—wait what?” Vlad said, eyes wide, “Sorry? What for?” confusion muddled its way up into his chest, leaving him breathless as he stared at his friend.

Hermione surged forward in a rush of frizzy hair and fresh tears that cascaded down her face like summer rain, “For not trusting you, you goose!”

Vlad felt the warmth of her radiating from her skin as he held her and couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face, pulling at his cheeks, “You don’t have to be sorry Hermione I understand. Vampires—we’re,” he sighed, resting his chin on the top of her head as he spoke, a tightness forming in his chest, “We’re not people. We’re mons—”

“You’re not a monster Vlad!” Hermione admonished hugging him tighter, her hair catching in his mouth as she wriggled against him, the scent of parchment and peppermint that was so uniquely Hermione enveloped him in a warming embrace.

Vlad’s breath caught in his throat at her admission, no one had ever said that to him before, “I—I’ll tell Harry tonight if you think it’s for the best but Herm…you can’t tell anyone okay,” he whispered, pulling her away to look into her eyes.

“Okay,” she breathed, “As long as you tell Harry. He’s probably going barmy right now after you ran out of the class as soon as Snape dismissed us. Very subtle,” she smiled, mischief dancing on the edges of her lips before her eyes lit up as if she had been struck by an idea, “Oh! Wait…do you know Count Dracula? Is he real or did Stoker just make him up?!”

A surprised bark of laughter burst from Vlad at the question, “Just because I’m a vampire doesn’t mean I know every vampire in the world Hermione,” he said, watching as the blush spread across her cheeks like wildfire, “but…he is mostly definitely real, sold the story to the Stoker man and funnily enough I do know him quite well actually,” a smirk of his own bloomed across his face at Hermione’s shocked expression, “I guess I would considering he is my dad.”

“You’re joking!” she gasped her eyes blown wide.

Vlad shook his head, feeling lighter than he had in years, “I’m really not. Dracula would have been a bit conspicuous,” he said with a smile as Hermione pulled away from him a little.

“So, Count Dracula the most famously evil vampire in the whole world has a nice son?” she asked, elbowing him in the ribs with a raised eyebrow.

Vlad rolled his eyes, “Much to his horror yes he does. That’s why he got Bertrand to be my tutor!”

“Bertrand?” Hermione asked with a cock of her head, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“Oh right!” Vlad started, realising he hadn’t told her his name, “Bertrand!” Vlad hissed into the shadow barely finishing his tutor’s name before the curly haired man appeared.

“Vlad,” the vampire said, turning to the young girl slowly, “You must be Hermione, I am Bertrand du Fortunesa, Vlad’s tutor,” the man said with a curt nod.

“Is that what you do on Friday night?” she asked, looking the vampire up and down, caution shining her eyes.

“Mostly yeah,” Vlad nodded looking between his tutor and his best friend, “Bertrand teaches me ancient vampire lore and—”

“Wait!” Hermione interrupted, “Ancient vampire lore!” Bertrand smiled a little at her enthusiasm, the girl was nearly bouncing on the spot at the thought, “You’ve been learning all this extra stuff and you didn’t even tell me?!” she asked, clutching her chest with fake hurt.

“Err yeah,” Vlad said with a snort, “Don’t worry it’s not nearly as fun as it sounds,” talking over Bertrand’s protests and he was met with Hermione’s laughter.

“Vlad doesn’t appreciate the fine detail of vampire lore, but he speaks often of you and how much you would enjoy it. You may be human, but I can always respect a fellow historian,” Bertrand murmured with a smile, “Maybe you could join us one eve if Vlad doesn’t get too distracted by your presence.”

“Bertrand!” Vlad hissed his voice raising a few octaves, shooting an annoyed look at the vampire who only smirked in response to his student’s embarrassment.

“Well I best be off and let you two talk. I have a headmaster and a soon-to-be-fired potions master to deal with,” Bertrand nodded stiffly to the two, sending Vlad a knowing smirk before he flittered away into one of the castle’s many secret passages.

“He’s a bit weird,” Hermione said looking at the space where Bertrand had once been.

Vlad chuckled, tucking his hands into his pockets, “For a four hundred-year-old bloodthirsty vampire he’s not even a bit weird.”

Hermione chocked for a second, “Wait he’s four hundred?”

“Oh…yeah I mean—sorry I forgot you only just,” Vlad stuttered feeling entirely too awkward for this conversation, “I mean…my dad’s like six hun—actually, never mind,” he trailed off, scanning Hermione’s shocked face.

“I mean I kind of forgot that vampires were immortal…does that mean?” she asked, eyes blown wide.

The reeling in Vlad’s stomach didn’t let up as he spoke, “Yeah, the old march of time doesn’t really affect me so much. As dad says ‘people, friends, armies and empires fall but we are forever as we watch the world burn’…lucky me,” he twirled his hand in the air limply.

Hermione frowned, “Oh Vlad…I’m so sorry! That’s—I didn’t even think about it like that.”

Eyes burning Vlad sniffed, looking away from her towards the Gryffindor entrance, “It’s why I’m looking for a cure…I-I don’t want this, I didn’t ask to be like this,” looking down at his pale hands as if he could tear himself from his body.

“We’ll find one together if that’s what you want Vlad,” Hermione said, grasping his hand, “Besides with the brightest witch of the age on your side there’s no way we won’t find a cure,” the smile that lit up her face was small, like a little beacon that called out to Vlad. Contentment pawed at his chest at the sight, his fear abating and sinking into the darker pits below.

To his shock he felt warm lips press against his cheek, nearly burning the skin there with their soft heat. Hermione pulled away and blushed prettily as she averted her gaze and Vlad found his shoes suddenly incredibly interesting. His heart was pumping, and his blood circulating and sweat gathered. Everything in his body sung, living and breathing and wondering and hoping all swirling together.

He knew that he would find a cure with her on his side. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I COULD NOT ALLOW A SAD ENDING. Every fiber of my being calls for a sad ending to every story but I literally could not do it to these two. They're both 13 and young and innocent and I couldn't okay! I'll go and be angsty in my other stories but not here!

**Author's Note:**

> YIKES! Did they make up? Are the students of Hogwarts going to start grabbing pitchforks? Who knows!


End file.
